


Winter: Hunting Season

by LisaDuncansTwin



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Pre-Slash, Written in 2000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaDuncansTwin/pseuds/LisaDuncansTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early in their friendship, Jim starts surprising Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter: Hunting Season

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and betaed in 2000, left unaltered. Thanks to Diana for the beta. Dedicated to Chance for always helping me find what I'm looking for.

The new key slid effortlessly and quietly into the lock of his new residence. Blair Sandburg had only called 852 Prospect his home for a week, but what a week it had been. He was still getting used to having a roommate, much less one that was a cop and a Sentinel. A Sentinel...damn amazing.

As Blair quietly closed the door behind him, he heard Jim on the phone upstairs. 

"Okay, we'll be there Friday night. See ya then." 

Hoping to tease his partner, Blair called up, "We'll be where Friday?" 

Not hearing an immediate answer, Blair looked to the stairs when he heard the larger man start down. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the tight t-shirt and equally tight jeans. _Heaven help me!_

Jim smiled at the younger man as he walked toward the kitchen, "Hunting lease." 

Blair spun around, thousands of questions in mind but unable to actually form any. _Hunting lease?_

Guide watched Sentinel as the older man started dinner. He was trying to imagine Jim hunting animals, hunting anything helpless and harmless. It just wasn't an image he thought of when considering Jim. And it didn't make any sense to Blair that he had been included when Jim clearly knew Blair's opinion about guns. Deciding he'd have to talk to the older man before the weekend, Blair went to the kitchen and helped prepare dinner. 

* * *

Three days later, Blair again wondered why he was going with Jim to this hunting lease. The truck was loaded down with supplies, and they were an hour out of Cascade, deep in the heart of the mountains. They'd been driving down a small dirt road for ten minutes when Jim finally pulled the truck up beside a tall pine tree. 

"We walk the rest of the way," Jim said, hopping out of the truck, not waiting for the younger man. 

They both slid backpacks on, Jim taking the rifle case and food, while Blair grabbed the sleeping bags and ice chest. Blair followed Jim through the woods, his shorter legs working double time to keep up with his long legged partner. They'd only been walking about five minutes when Jim came to a sudden stop. 

Immediately Blair stopped, and then stepped closer to his Sentinel, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"What is it, Jim? What's wrong?" 

Cocking his head, the Sentinel listened. 

"There's a wounded animal. That way," Jim said tightly, pointing off to the left. 

Blair watched as Jim set down the provisions and slipped off his backpack. Carefully, Jim opened the rifle case, pulled the Remington out and slid a single bullet into the chamber. His actions were so mechanical, so lifeless, that Blair could do nothing, couldn't say a word, but when Jim started off in the direction of the wounded animal, Blair quickly followed. 

He knew they were getting closer when he heard the first cries of the poor animal. They seemed loud in his ears, and he wondered how loudly they echoed in Jim's heightened ones. 

Coming into a clearing, they finally saw the wounded doe. She's been shot at least twice: the first shot breaking her foreleg and the second shattering her spine. She was paralyzed and suffering, and the hunter who had shot her was nowhere in sight. 

Blair was compassionate by nature, and his heart went out to the helpless deer. He felt her pain, felt the fear and despair as if it were his own. Without another thought, he quickly rummaged in the ice chest he still carried and pulled out a bottle of water. He tried to cup his hands so she could drink from them, but his actions were uncoordinated and clumsy. 

Jim felt his own sadness at the plight of the dying doe, felt anger at her unnecessary death and the waste of her life. Watching Blair struggle with the water, Jim crouched down next to him and cupped his own hands, needing to help as best he could. 

Looking up with grateful eyes, Blair poured the water in Jim's hands. Once full, Jim lowered them so the doe could drink. She was skittish and hesitant, but also thirsty. Something inside her trusted them, and she leaned forward to drink. 

At the first touch of her muzzle to the water, Blair felt minutely better. Smiling, he raised his eyes and found Jim studying him, looking at him with an indescribable expression on his face. Swallowing nervously, Blair let his eyes roam the features of the detective's face--the high forehead, the straight nose, the full bottom lip, and back again to the sky blue eyes; Blair refused to look away first, wanting to convey his attraction and interest in a way he hadn't been able to before. 

The bleating of the deer broke their gaze. She was in pain, and there was nothing they could do for her. Well, that wasn't entirely true, but Jim was afraid to bring the subject of euthanasia up to the kind hearted younger man. 

Blair stood abruptly then, gathering up his backpack and the ice chest. He felt Jim's eyes on him the entire time, but his emotions were too raw for him to meet Jim's gaze. 

"Do it," Blair said softly before heading back in the direction from whence they came. 

Understanding, Jim watched the back of his best friend until he could no longer see him, even with his senses. Then Jim stood, and fired one shot. 

* * *

An hour later, Jim found Blair sitting on the ground by their discarded possessions. He put the rifle away, then sat down beside the younger man. 

"Chief..." 

"No, Jim. I understand." And he did. "You don't come out here to hunt, do you? You come out here to help and make things right." 

"Yeah, I try." 

Blair nodded. 

Needing to touch, Jim laid a caressing hand on Blair's shoulder. They sat in silence for long minutes until Blair's soft voice broke the quiet. 

"You buried her." Again, it was more of a statement than a question. 

"Yes." 

"Protecting your tribe," Blair mumbled. 

"What?" Jim asked, hearing but not understanding. 

"Even when you didn't know you were a Sentinel, you were already protecting your tribe. You were already a Guardian." 

"Animals are part of my tribe?" Jim asked, confused. 

"Anyone or anything that is in pain or that needs help is part of your tribe. You have to help if you think you can." 

"You think I helped that deer by killing her?" Jim said hotly. 

"No, Jim. You didn't kill her, you put her out of her misery. You helped her." 

"I don't think--" Jim started, shaking his head. 

"I think so, Jim. I know so," Blair said, sure enough for both of them. 

Again, silence reigned, both men needing the peace to accept the day's revelations. Finally, they stood up, gathered their belongings and headed for their camping ground. 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You got any other secrets you wanna share with me?" 

Jim stopped and regarded his guide, "Maybe someday." 

They smiled at each other, knowingly, and then continued forward. 

The End. 


End file.
